A Compromising Position
by Claronenity
Summary: My first, short Avon/Tarrant story. They're trapped in a 'compromising position' when their mission to set up a deal goes awry. Please R & R... Rated T because there is nothing explicit but heavily implied. Romance/Humor/Angst


_**WARNING: IT'S SLASHTASTIC. Possibly considered PWP, though I give loose details about the mission they were on...**_

_**I do not own Blake's 7, think it's perfect, but just wanted to write a little for my favourite non-canon pairing. Is that the right phrase? I'm not very fanfic knowledgeable, I just like writing it. Anyways, I wrote it for my friend, who hadn't seen Blake's 7, and she liked it enough to encourage me to post it here. PLEASE R&R! Thanks :)**_

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><p><strong>A Compromising Position<strong>

Tarrant's eyes opened slowly. It was very bright wherever he was. He tried to get his bearings- he looked blearily around and saw he was in a small space with smooth white walls and a fluorescent light tube round the 'ceiling'. There was someone with him; it was Avon, still unconscious. Tarrant suddenly remembered- they were on Procyon. And the King, Aal, had not taken a shine to them. Two bodyguards armed with massive clubs, a heated argument over a resource deal and everything had turned black.

But where were they now? Tarrant managed to roll over and tap the sides of their strange prison. He began to feel panicky- how were they going to escape? He felt his wrist, checking to see if they had confiscated their bracelets; sure enough, there was nothing but a slight mark where it had been. There was no other choice- Tarrant would have to rouse his half enemy, half friend, co-worker and constant rival.  
>"Avon! Come on, wake up!" Tarrant began shaking his shoulders, slapping him slightly.<p>

Avon stirred and instantly began scowling.

"Oh leave me alone Tarrant," he sighed, turning over and pushing himself further away from the other man.

"Avon," Tarrant hissed, "I need your help."

Avon was suddenly wide awake. His stuck up, arrogant, handsome little Federation pilot needed help, did he?

"Well, seeing as I am the most intelligent out of the two of us, that would only be natural."

Tarrant gritted his teeth and Avon smirked.

"That's a matter of opinion, but I'd like to see how you'll get us out of this one. You see, we're quite surely trapped."

Avon sat up as best he could. He looked around. It seemed like they were in a coffin of some sort, though it was big enough to fit two people.

"Have you tried the most obvious escape route yet?" He asked.

Tarrant frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Avon said slyly, "Why don't you use those little muscles of your to break us out."

Tarrant stared at him.

"I didn't think of that. Doubt it'll work but..."

He turned away from Avon and began search for an opening of some sort. There was no sign of how you could get in or out. There was no lock, no slit between the walls and floor, and he didn't see how the ceiling could be moved from inside.

He looked for anything to help him break out- there was nothing. He was starting to become very worried.

He reached across Avon, so he was half lying on top of him and tried the wall on that side. It was no different.

"There's... no... way... out!" Tarrant panted, banging his fists of the solid walls of their coffin. He kicked the wall again in frustration but the pain only made him feel worse.

"I guess we'll have to wait to be rescued then."

Avon's tone was flat as ever, but there was a slight smile playing on his lips. Locked in with Tarrant? Worse things could have happened...

"What do you mean?" Tarrant asked "Cally and the rest are still on the ship, there's no way they-"

"I managed to send a brief signal with my communicator. But it might be hopeless- by the time Vila figures it out and/or tells Cally and Dayna... Well, as I said before, we'll just have to wait and see."

They lay in silence for a moment. There was something strange in the air, or maybe it was just something strange between the two men that were making their thoughts turn to more... private things. Their awkward position did not help. Tarrant thought about a dream he had had a few months ago, a dream he had not been able to forget. They were in a position like now, but they were in it by choice. The entire week after that dream he had been unable to act normally around Avon, and he had been slightly infatuated with him. Then Avon had dealt him another cruel putdown, and he decided it wasn't worth thinking about, and it certainly would never happen.

"So," Tarrant sighed, feeling uncomfortable. "What do we do now? It's going to be quite a while till they show up."

There was another pause. Then Avon decided to be reckless, and act on his strange feelings. He had thought about Tarrant on and off, and always found him quite attractive. But something about Tarrant always annoyed him and made him forget. They were opposites, they were incompatible, and there was friction between them- but that was what intrigued Avon about the whole thing.

"Oh come on, don't pretend. You know one thing to pass the time"

His lips brushed against Tarrant's cheek, though he had been aiming for his mouth. Tarrant had turned his head away at the last moment, but Avon's kiss still had an instant effect on him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Avon?"

"You're blushing Tarrant"

"I am not"

"Yes you are, you're rosy as a little flower..."

"It's just the heat in here"

Tarrant's increasing annoyance and defiance only amused Avon more. He didn't really know how much he wanted Tarrant, but it would always be something to think about when Avon started liking him again, and he knew how good it would feel to bring Tarrant down a peg and make him confused.

"You can feel the heat too, huh?"

"Avon..."

Tarrant was angry now. He pushed himself away from Avon, and managed to lie down beside him in the cramped space.

"Oh come on, don't hurt my feelings now..."

Avon pouted and tickled Tarrant's chest. He knew he could push him further, and he couldn't wait to see Tarrant's reaction. But he was not counting on what happened next.

Tarrant had had enough. He wanted Avon, it was true, but not that badly. Now it was Tarrant's turn to mess the other man about.

"Sorry... Let me make it up to you," Tarrant said huskily, grabbing Avon's shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

Avon froze, and Tarrant could see his eyes widen in shock. Tarrant chuckled, and slid his tongue into Avon's mouth, pulling him closer, to restrain him from protesting. Then Tarrant began to caress Avon's cheek with his other hand, and then ran his fingers through Avon's hair. Tarrant found his own eyes opening, shocked at how much he enjoyed the feel of the smooth skin and the thick hair. He was also surprised at Avon, whose eyes were almost closed now. His lids were fluttering, as if fighting against their natural response. Tarrant felt suddenly excited- had Avon been partially serious when he was flirting before? Keep going, Tarrant thought, I'll get him yet. He began to stroke Avon's chest and then wrapped his arm around his waist. Avon's tongue still refused to meet Tarrant's. Tarrant laughed, and decided to go the whole way; he slid his fingers inside Avon's pants and stroked his shaft.

Avon snapped. His tongue now fought Tarrant's with rampant enthusiasm, and another part of him clearly was enthusiastic too. Avon was back in control, just as always, but Tarrant didn't care- he was enjoying it far too much, far more than he had expected. It had always been Avon in charge, simply because he couldn't take anything less. But Tarrant could concede for this one moment. The only thing that was currently annoying him was Avon's leather suit, which was very difficult to get off. His own clothes were being pulled off him by Avon, the light fabric easy to remove without having to break apart from each other. It was soon becoming a bit of a blur.

Then Avon began to kiss Tarrant's neck, moving slowly down to his chest. His tongue played with Tarrant's nipples for a while, but he soon became bored. He wanted to move on, to taste another part of Tarrant. They only had a limited amount of time before they either died or the crew found them. I should be afraid, Avon thought to himself, but I'm not. Because this would be an excellent way to go.

He stopped kissing Tarrant, and looked up at him. Avon was suddenly overwhelmed by how beautiful Tarrant was. All those nights, when they had been alone together at the controls, why hadn't he seen it then?

"Is there anything wrong Avon?"

Tarrant had such innocence about him too. He was like a boy- a very clever, mature, sexy and aware boy, but a boy nonetheless. And Avon doubted he had ever done anything with a man before. It was strange how everything hit him at once, but Avon realised just then that he had been becoming more and more fond of Tarrant, and recently their arguments had been no more than a routine habit. Avon's heart was still sore and broken and cold as ice, but despite himself he wanted to trust Tarrant. Take a risk, Kerr, he thought encouragingly, be nice for once.

"It's Kerr, actually. Just call me Kerr."

His voice shook slightly and broke off at the end. It had taken a lot for him to say that, and Tarrant knew it.

"Call me Del then, if you want. But..."

He trailed off.

"What?"

Avon was still in a daze.

"Well," Tarrant began, "You'll have to forgive me if I accidentally say Avon instead. Still- either way I'll be calling your name."

It was enough to break Avon out of his trance.

"Very well then," he smiled, excitement filling him, and arousal as he looked at Tarrant's ripped torso, "Let's try it and see, shall we?"

It was quiet. Tarrant was dozing and Avon was panting slightly. The air was running out, but at least they'd had their fun. Avon didn't know what time it was or how long they'd been there. He still had hope of rescue, but it was dwindling fast. He turned to look at the sleeping Del. "Del..." Avon whispered, "I'm still not used to it. But then you weren't used to Kerr either, were you?"

He sighed. He knew this was not going to continue into a relationship, and what just happened would probably never happen again. So why did he feel so sentimental and attached? Avon didn't like feeling that way- every other time that he felt that for someone, it would all end terribly; his mother, Anna Grant, Blake... Had he really loved Blake? No, he hadn't. Blake was far too idealistic and annoying to properly love. Tarrant had more of Avon's own qualities in him, which made him so much easier to understand and admire.

"Del Tarrant, I'm silly about you. But once I see the familiar artificial lights in the Liberator, and once I am surrounded by the crew again, I will harden myself against you. And not in a fun way. So I'm sorry for this, but it's the way I am. Maybe I could change one day. But there's no point in waiting. I won't be hurt again, Del. So I will hurt you instead. Though you feel this way too I suppose- it's hard to believe you could truly care about me either. Sleep well, my little boy. Hope you enjoyed the emotional monologue."

Avon rolled over, his face set, his final words said. He closed his eyes and began the process of detachment. He would no doubt dream of Tarrant before he drifted into the unknown, but he would not die with emotional ties. It would make him too reluctant to go. Something like tears began to well up in his eyes. He couldn't let go of the bonds towards his friends, no matter what he did. He couldn't let himself die without sparing a thought for the lost ones; Gan, the gentle giant, Jenna, the beautiful pilot and Blake, his reluctant colleague and one time lover. And then there were the others; Vila, the dim-witted but sneaky thief who he had many adventures with, most memorably at Freedom City. Dayna, the half wild huntress who had kissed him the first time he'd seen her, though nothing had come of it. And then there was the one Avon trusted most, the one who he half liked, the one who he knew would never let him down-

"Cally?"

A rush of cold air cut short his reflecting.

"Avon! Are you all right? We came as soon as we figured out but it was difficult to get past the guards. We'd better hurry."

The normally calm alien sounded like she'd been very worried about them. She looked over at Tarrant, still sleeping.

"Is Tarrant all right?"

Avon was now thankful he had managed to put Tarrant's clothes back on.

"Yes, I think so, he's just asleep. He, err, exerted himself. Trying to escape of course," he added quickly.

Cally gave Avon a look. He tried desperately not to think about what had happened between them. That was the annoying thing about having an Auron telepath around- you could never be sure if your thoughts were safe.

The sound of running footsteps made them both look around. Vila and Dayna were running towards them, both wielding their guns and looking frazzled.

"Avon, Tarrant, good to see you," Vila panted, "So sorry we can't hang around any longer, but we're in a bit of trouble."

He attempted to run off, but Dayna grabbed his arm.

"Oh Vila honestly," she scoffed. She smiled briefly at Avon. "He is right though. Those guards could be along any minute."

Avon had already climbed out of his prison, and had proceeded to shake Tarrant awake.

"Tarrant, get up, we're rescued."

Tarrant managed to sit up.

"Wow, we're free." He mumbled.

"Yes, well done," Avon said icily, "Now we'd better get going or we won't be free much longer."

They began to run towards the exit, looking for a place to beam up.

"ORAC said he'd give us thirty minutes- it's been about that now." Cally explained, "Here, put them on quick."

She tossed a bracelet each to Tarrant and Avon, and they put them on hastily.

"Alright, it's only 30 seconds now. We'll be fine in a moment."

There was a bang and part of the ceiling fell in.

"Oh yes," Dayna shouted, "We forgot to mention- we accidentally set off a bomb."

"A bomb?" Cally yelled, "Oh how do you two do it? Well 10 seconds left."

They continued running, trying to get out of the corridor. The floor tilted and Tarrant slammed into Avon. Their eyes met, and there was something like a spark there, but Avon looked away and Tarrant got the message.

"Here we go!" he heard Vila yell, and they were all merged into darkness for a moment, then he felt his feet touch the floor of the Liberator.

"Phew!" Vila sighed, laughing slightly and removing his bracelet, "That was some timing."

They began to make their way towards the main corridor, but they were interrupted.

"Excuse me," ORAC said in his usual indignant tone, "But aren't you forgetting something?"

"Oh, we're sorry ORAC." Cally smiled. "Thank you for helping us so efficiently."

The computer made a sort of 'mm-hmm!' sound and then was silent.

"So Avon," Dayna said inquiringly, "How did it happen?"

Avon sighed.

"It's hard to say; it appears Aal didn't take a liking to me. Something to do with me suggesting we had plenty of intelligent rulers to form deals with, so we didn't need a stupid one like him."

"Avon," Vila moaned, "When will you learn that people generally don't like that snide attitude of yours?"

Avon just smirked.

"Well, it must've been boring stuck in there," Cally said, a knowing look in her eye and a teasing smile on her lips. "What did you spend the time doing?"

Tarrant and Avon looked at each other.

"We-" Avon began.

"Actually Cally, we spent most of the time trying to escape. Or at least I did. You know Avon- never really into physical stuff like that."

Tarrant had to forcibly restrain himself from laughing at the expression on Avon's face.

"Well in that case you'll need a rest. But perhaps Avon could come help with the controls, make himself useful."

Avon shot Tarrant a filthy look and had no choice but to follow the others to the flight deck. Tarrant sniggered and headed for his quarters. He felt glad to be alive, but also sad. He knew that Avon would never treat him like that again, and that he didn't have a fondness for Tarrant like Tarrant felt for him. He had had such a brilliant dream after Avon had sent him into paradise. It was really just the same thing over again, but it happened more than once. In the dream it had turned into a long-term thing.

"Stupid of you Del, to think so sentimentally," he told himself, in cool and detached mutter.

He lay down on his bed, not feeling tired at all. All he could do was think of Avon. I have to do something to keep it off my mind, he thought, something to finish it. Suddenly a phrase floated into his head- artificial lights. He had a faint inkling that Avon had said it recently, but he couldn't think when. He moved over to his desk, picked up a pad and began to write. It would be a poem, or a song, about Avon. And then he would be done.

Tarrant looked out of the window at the stars. Avon might've been like one of them- far away, beautiful, and unable to be touched. But at least they would always be there.

_**Artificial Lights**_

_The stars in the sky aren't bright enough_

_To see what we want to_

_But the stars in the sky are all I want to see_

_To remind me of you_

_But I can't see them through my window_

_Because the light clouds my view_

_Artificial, like you_

_These lights blind me_

_Too much, not enough_

_Just like us_

_If only I could turn them off_

_You could maybe see me in the dark_

_If only I could turn them off_

_You could maybe see me for what I am_

_Sleep it off, forget it all_

_Hope for tomorrow_

_But you say don't bother waiting_

_You don't want to feel_

_ So you break me_

_But can't you see it hurts us both?_

_Without each other, it feels bad_

_But with each other, it can never last_

_If only I could know how stars feel_

_That they have the same feelings too_

_If only I could be sure that this is true_

_That it wasn't artificial just like you_

_- D. T._


End file.
